Held Hostage

Published March 11, 2016 by helentastic67

Ginger Cat 1

Once upon a time our family had a cat which had kittens. There was a Ginger cat which was called “Ginger Biscuit”. It very briefly had a rather wry misname of ‘Crumb’ when Mum baked out of the drive way and it didn’t get out of the way. It sustained a broken leg and after a very expensive trip to the vets, came home with a metal rod in its leg. He survived to sun bath on our concrete for his vitamin D, but alas that’s just background. The temperament of this particular cat was really sweet. I once picked him up and sat with him on the couch. At the start he didn’t much go for my need to sit with him on the couch, so I had to hold him to my chest with both arms. Poor Biscuit didn’t have a chance really, however luckily within 2-4 minutes he was touched in and fast asleep purring…

There is something about having a disability and being taken away from your home where you can maintain some of your own independence that is like being held hostage.

When at home, I can pretty much fend for myself. I don’t leave the house every day of the week if I can help it and I prefer to have the help of a carer on the days I do leave the house, but when I’m out of my comfort zone I have to rely on the volunteer assistance from family or friends. I cannot do my own hair, trim my own fingernails or toenails or dry and dress in a timely manner and endeavour. Eventually, like Ginger Biscuit I just accept fate and take what I can get, make the most of it and go to sleep.

And this plays on the depression.

If you think it’s a 1^st world problem that I can’t do my own mani/pedi, I should be so lucky! My nails are soft these days and bend back causing pain, my left toenails if too long get stubbed and badly damaged. My left fingernails get in the way when I’m trying to exercise that hand and keep my fingers flexible. So, yes? My fingernails are an issue. But if you want a stronger example: try this.

Met a woman from the Barwon District, who had come to tell us of her experiences of the NDIS being piloted in her region.

She was in a wheelchair and probably in her late 40’s – early 50’s. She had a package to provide her carers and as she needed a Carer to go from bed to her wheelchair where she spent her day and to a toilet and back to her chair or bed, you might like to imagine the timing of her carers could be rather critical.

She gave the example that one particular day, she couldn’t wait to go to the toilet and her carer was some hours away, so she rang her service providers to request her carer earlier.

They could not provide it to her.

As she sat in her chair on the stage, she told us she couldn’t wait and in the best of spirits announced to us that when her carer did arrive at the rostered time she would have more of a mess to clean up!

Now, I’ve had some “shitty days!” But she was so brave to announce it to us like that and can you imagine it’s a way some people get held hostage to a situation far from their control…

Social Isolation

Published March 8, 2016 by helentastic67

Social Isolation

Sometimes, I try to socially engage with people wherever I go. I do this at the places I go for appointments or the supermarket for groceries. No lifetime friendships, but connecting all the same because it’s how I encourage people to get to know me and see that I’m “Normal!”

At my local supermarket, my favourite checkout chicks have gotten to know me over the years. Even from before my disability.

On Friday, I encountered a newish guy in the Deli/Freezer area. He was restocking the dairy case with milk.

Now, for those who don’t know – Melbourne has had a heatwave the last few days and being in the freezer section of the supermarket is the place to be.

This is the perfect example of how I try to engage with people and retain my sass!

This guy was wearing a big jacket to wear into the cool room. I asked if that jacket was really necessary in this weather.

He tells me it’s for when he’s in the cool room.

I inquire, “What’s a girl gotta do to get in that cool room? He didn’t really reply.

I grabbed my cream and as I moved away I told him,

“I wasn’t trying to sexually harass him in the work place”

I saw he had a big grin on his face and I did a circular motion towards his smile and told him “I was going for that!”

Old People

Published March 4, 2016 by helentastic67

Old lady

There are many things to love about old people! I know a few amazing older ladies. But I’ll tell you about them another time. But I love when older people ask me about my arm.

Usually, pre-empted with “What have you done to yourself?” to which I reply with – “I refuse to take responsibility for this!…….”

And I offer a brief explanation.

Then I ask them the same question. Today I asked this of a gentleman at a Medical Clinic I was at, who had a walking stick. His wife answered for him.

“He’s just gotten old.”

Priceless. Love that answer because then I can tell them I expected it to take years longer before I felt as old as I feel……

Jamima

Published February 29, 2016 by helentastic67

Jamima

Meet Jamima ‘Patch the Pirate Cat’ Puddleduck!
So called for my patchy left eye & my pen chance for sitting on shoulders(until Uncle B comes along, his shoulder h helps me get higher)
I’m the mental Healthcare Provider for a Crazy Cat-Lady. Housemates, boyfriends & even Uncle B have come & gone but my Mum keeps up with the Tuesday Tummy Rub’s!

Stay Tuned……….

Like

Published January 7, 2016 by helentastic67

Like!

There is a word I would like, DAMN IT! Prefer to omit from my everyday language. No it’s not the Bomb!

That word is way too valuable!

I have a carer tomorrow who I get along very well with. I call her Aunty Christine! It comes in handy when I have to give Jamima (my cat) the talk!

You know the ‘talk’……..

“C’mon there are starving kids in Africa that won’t eat today! Eat your dinner Aunty Christine gave it to you!”

But anyway, she will arrive tomorrow and she has an appropriate level of common sense where she will see the plastic “thing” on the kitchen bench and ask me what I want her to do with it…

She will not ask me if I want her to recycle it because next to it are the suction “thing” that attach it to the wall of my shower and a tube of Superglue…

I will happily respond to her question with a grumpy “Can you fix that fucking thing?”

And after we laugh about it, she will fix the fucking thing.

The fucking thing in question is a plastic holder that sticks to the shower wall and holds 2 hand pump bottles. One for shampoo and one for conditioner…

No OT (Occupational Therapist) told me that one! And see if you can use the F Bomb in context it’s acceptable. Unlike (grrr) the word ‘like!’

I hate that word because I’m not 14 and I have other words in my vocabulary!

What words do you not….. favour?

Salami

Published December 10, 2015 by helentastic67

Salami 1

Salami

Or as I like to call it ‘Salamia’!

There are many words I like to pronounce incorrectly. Life should be fun that way…

Anyway, Salami is getting quite the bad rap these days. It causes cancer and shortens life.

I’m a big fan of Salami being a little bit wog!

Salami is a standard on a Saturday in my house and if I’m lucky another day during the week if I’m home…

No one is saying if the difference between eating Salami is a shorter life by say six months off my life every time I eat Salami?

I think you have worked out already I’m not giving up my Saturday meat that MUST HAVE SALAMI!

And we all die, right? And we will die regardless of if we eat processed meats. Might as well die well fed…

But if someone can do the maths for me.

Every time I eat Salami, do I lose 6 months or 5 years simply because I eat the stuff!

I’ve just worked out part of my income runs out at 60! Not 67, as previously thought!

But 60!

So, in order to maintain this wonderful frivolous existence I must promptly die at 60!

And then I’m also thinking; “That’s 17 more years of this bullshit existence!”

Better eat more Salami!

Life Review

Published December 3, 2015 by helentastic67

Life Review 1

Life Review

So, I’m now at a time in my life where you take a little “stock” of what you (me in this case) of what I’ve achieved and tallied the successes I’ve celebrated.

Completely heightened by a recent 25 year High School reunion that I did attend.

The current Premier of Victoria, Daniel Andrews was from my High School and what I’ve managed to achieve in life doesn’t add up to much at all. Except to say I have survived.

I know I’ve yet to divulge what exactly my medical condition is or my disability and that has been on purpose.

Rest assured all shall soon be revealed.

So, stocktake, I guess I’ve always been a bit of a free-spirit. I had ideas of how I thought light might go, but perhaps not how I would get there.

When I was younger, I thought life would just naturally fall into place and perhaps this was what was meant to happen because I’m still here!

I honestly thought I’d be married with kids “living the dream” by 30.

I wanted to have my own business “something” in the realm of Interior Decoration.

I studied something else. I studied the one thing that would have been better if I’d been a gay man! Two things ‘I’m not!’ I studied Visual merchandising (Window dressing).

It did teach me, I would not cut it with technical drawing.

And the whole married with kid’s thing, well in recent years, I’ve learnt that my medical condition, pregnancy could have been deadly.

Alas, I also did not meet my ‘husband’.

Here’s hoping – yet!

Friends of yesteryear and I would joke – he was lost!

But anyway, not doing this blog to find a husband…

But still assessing what the rest of life should include…

I do not work. All the things I have done for income in the past, I can no longer do and the NDIS would see us all being able to work again.

It’s a nice dream however, I struggle to get out of bed every day! And I struggle to stay out of bed every day!

The aim every day is to make it to the end of the day and not fall over! To still feel the parts of my body I make work that only work because I make them…

And to make it to the next day!

Life seems small these days!

I get to appointments that help me live. I create social connections at these appointments because over time they have gotten to know me and who I used to be…

But rest assured if I didn’t pay for services at those places, they would not have the time to be ‘friends’ with me outside of “work”.

So to the future, it’s a work in progress and please join me on the adventure…

NDIS

Published November 28, 2015 by helentastic67

NDIS

Some people are generally concerned the NDIS won’t help them. I have some concerns as for the 8-9 years I’ve had my more severe symptoms of my disability, I’ve been told by everyone I speak to that, the NDIS will help me!

So the NDIS has been like a light at the end of the tunnel. A promise, if you like that things/life will get easier. Because I’ve had no funding, I’ve had to do things that my carers have told me is tragic/sad so I can still enjoy the good things in life.

So, this is a good tip for all those people who have had funding and have been able to be comfortable with life. And who are now looking at having my reality.

The classic cup of tea.

You get 2 teabags and 3 mugs, you heard me!

Your first 2 cups of tea I recommend don’t make them so strong the teaspoon can stand up in and put both teabags into the third mug for your third cup of tea.

If you do it properly the third cup of tea, will be just as good as the two proceeding.

I like my tea strong with a tiny teaspoon of mild so it looks more like coffee, with just a smidge of sugar…

If I plan it just right I have that third cup of tea in the morning when any tea will do and you ain’t so fussy.

For me the little things have been important…

So after years of crappy housemates I prioritize living alone, I prioritize not living so far from the city.

I still prioritize eating, turning the light on and occasionally, I have someone walk into a room and announce that the NDIS won’t help them at all.

So I asked this woman “What do you mean?”

She repeated her first statement like that helped at all…………

God help me!

So I decided to unpack it for her…………

I informed her, she would still get her pension from Centrelink. It would not be one or the other.

Then I questioned her.

“Do you need any carers to live your life?”

“No.”

“Do you need any support?”

“No.”

“You don’t pay rent?”

I’m not sure I asked this but I presume her father doesn’t charge her rent.

“And you work right?”

She said she could work more, but her neuropsych stated she was unable.

And finally I put my old hat on from my days working for the NGO…..

Her next answer surprised me.

“Well I’ve got the investment property in Brunswick.”

To which I informed her the NDIS was not for her!

Confession Time

Published November 28, 2015 by helentastic67

Confession

Confession Time

OK! Something you should know about me. I’m grumpy! I admit it! I get really grumpy! It’s been coming on more and more in recent years. Since acquiring my disability, obviously, but every now and again the “Grumpiness” gets turned up a notch.

I have no patience for whiny – little – bitches. You know the ones, I can’t even watch some reality TV shows anymore.

“It’s too hard!”

“It hurts!”

“It hurts me to move!”

“I can’t wear what I want!”

“Take a deep breath sweetie!”

“Skinny jeans aren’t for everyone!”

I haven’t even tried to put on jeans for about 4 years. Doing jeans up one handed is a pain in the arse! Particularly if you need to get to the toilet in a hurry.

But it’s more a grumpiness because plenty of people with real problems don’t do enough to help themselves and they want everyone to rescue them.

Sometimes, it’s a conscious decision about accepting that I’ve been dealt a shitty situation and I’ve just got to deal with the consequences so how do I do that?

Oh and people don’t like to hear advice from me and when they complain about the same old things I reign in the obvious tips because they didn’t get it the last 3 times I suggested it!

I’m done!

Grumpy rant over!

My Left Arm Doesn’t Work

Published November 28, 2015 by helentastic67

Every day, there’s something new to detest about having a disability. There’s just different ways with how to deal (or not) with how it affects you mentally.

As yet, I haven’t told you what my disability is, I know Soz Bro (my carer gave me this one today) but to give you an idea. My left arm does not work. I’ve lost my eyesight and about 5 shitty things later, I also suffer anxiety and depression. They weren’t first but to be clear they don’t help!

So the situation looks like this, I work on my left arm and hand all the time. All the time, when I’m sitting on the couch, on the tram, lying in bed trying to sleep.

ALL THE TIME! When I’m anxious. I also out of habit use my nails too long so I do my absolute best to trim them so I don’t scratch my good hand while I try to exercise my bad hand…

My carer has recently commented I have very short nail beds on my left hand.

I thought about this overnight and realised sometimes when the beautician files those nails to clean up the mess I’ve created, they hurt and I realise I can feel them…

So this gets to my point – finally. I can’t tell that I’m hurting myself when I trim my own finger nails!

I was a nail biter for my first 34 years! And it’s another story for another day. But my point right now is back then I NEVER BITE MY NAILS SO BADLY I COULDN’T FEEL IT!